


this low

by emryses



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 10x09, Episode Tag, Episode: s10e09 O Captain My Captain, Feelings, M/M, Mentions of Ian/Caleb, Mentions of Ian/Kash Karib, Mentions of Ian/Ned Lishman, Mentions of Ian/Roger Spikey, Mentions of Ian/Trevor, Post-Episode: s10e09 O Captain My Captain, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emryses/pseuds/emryses
Summary: Ian has a complicated relationship with love. (10x09 Retrospective.)
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 20
Kudos: 150





	this low

**Author's Note:**

> hello welcome to my ian gallagher feelings mind dump

**roger:**

First, there was Roger Spikey. But Ian’s pretty sure he doesn’t count because Ian never kissed him, and it was only a few times. When he had left, Ian was okay, he wasn’t upset, he wasn’t abandoned, he was fine.

Roger was good while he lasted, but he never made any significant impact, and Ian’s sure it’s the same the other way around. Often, Ian forgets that they even were together. If anything, he helped Ian really _know._

Well, he’s known since Justin Timberlake, but the whole physically touching a guy’s dick thing really solidified it all in Ian’s mind. He was definitely gay.

But he can’t say he ever loved Roger. Not really. Ian had never loved anyone until he met

**kash:**

A long time ago Ian would have told you Kash was the first man he ever loved. But now being older, wiser, and not 15 years old screwing a 35-year-old married man, he knows that isn’t true.

At first, Kash was this mystery person, who Ian only worked with when the other guy couldn’t come in. But eventually, it was only Kash, Ian, and sometimes Linda. And Ian knew he couldn’t stop staring at Kash, he couldn’t keep his eyes away. What was surprising to Ian was that Kash couldn’t keep his eyes away, either. So maybe it was inevitable. (Or maybe Kash was a fucking pedophile and should have been put straight into jail, but Ian wouldn’t consider this possibility until years later.) 

But for a long time, Kash was the only thing Ian thought of. Kash was his first kiss, and they bought things for one another, and they supported one another. Ian listened as Kash told him how scared he was of being gay when he was younger, and Kash listened when Ian needed to complain about his family, school, ROTC, whatever. 

They were a perfect balance, 15-year-old Ian thought, and they were in love, so 15-year-old Ian thought. And one day Kash would leave Linda and his children and they would escape the South Side, and Ian could go to West Point. He and Kash would live together in a small apartment while Ian went to school, and he would help support Ian when he went and fought for his country. Maybe one day they would even get married. 

Ian had all of laid out, that is until 

**mickey:**

Mickey. 

Mickey, everything was Mickey, and Kash - Kash who? Kash didn’t fucking matter because there was _Mickey_. And it was here, sneaking into Mickey’s bed when he was hanging out with Mandy, in the back freezer of the Kash and Grab, curling their fingers together on the metal bar in front of them, where Ian knew he was in love.

But he knew he couldn’t say it because he would scare Mickey away, and Ian couldn’t scare Mickey away. Not when he had just discovered _this_ , this wonderful feeling rooted in the bottom of his stomach when he was with Mickey. The way laughter came easily, the way he always had a smile when he came to Mickey and a smile, albeit a different kind, when he left.

 _I miss you,_ Ian told Mickey from the opposite side of the glass because it was true because only a few weeks without Mickey being there was pure heartache and Ian _missed_ him. And from the invisible smile Mickey gave, Ian knew that he missed him, too.

Because Mickey was a bundle of contradictions that Ian dedicated his life to unraveling.

When Mickey said, _take your hand off the glass,_ Ian knew he meant, _thank you for coming._

When Mickey said, _you’re nothing but a warm mouth to me,_ Ian knew he meant, _this is too much, I can’t fucking do this._

And when he didn’t hear anything from Mickey for his whole second stint in juvie, Ian knew that meant, _give me time._

So Ian was going to give him time. He was busy, with school, with trying to get into West Point, and then Monica came back (again). There was a lot going on, and then there was

**ned:**

Ian never really saw Ned coming. But he knew he didn’t love him. 

The only reason he continually saw Ned was an attempt to forget about Mickey, just a little bit. Ian could decipher Mickey’s words, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt. So, sometimes, he just needed to forget his kind-of relationship with Mickey, just while he was waiting for him to come back.

So Ned was just another guy. Another fuck. Another married man that Ian was screwing. Ian was just another mistress for an adult man who was too afraid to be who he really was.

(Again, it wasn’t until much later that Ian even realized how fucked this was.)

Ned bought him fancy food, tried to buy him presents, and Ian knew he was trying to get Ian to love him, but it didn’t work. (And, yeah, at one point Ian kept Ned around for the sole purpose of making Mickey jealous.) It was never going to work, not when there was still 

**mickey:**

Things picked up exactly where they ended. Mickey came back to work at the Kash and Grab, and they continued their - their whatever it was - and maybe it was here where something broke in Ian.

He loved Mickey, and the more time he spent with him the more he loved him, and the more certain he became that Mickey must love him back. Mickey had to love him, right? Ian couldn’t have made this all up in his head, right? _Right?_

Ian started to love Mickey so much that it _hurt_. It hurt when Mickey would go and fuck Angie Zahgo, it hurt more and more that Mickey wouldn’t kiss him. And it began to hurt more when Ian would decipher his words.

When Mickey said, _I don’t know what you see in that geriatric viagroid._ Ian knew he meant, _What the fuck are you doing with him? Why are you not with me?_ And Ian would want to ask the same question to Mickey.

When Mickey kissed Ian for the first time, Ian’s whole world went upside down, back and forth, to the moon and twisted around. Because two years - two years and Mickey never so much as touched him outside of sex; and now-now Mickey is kissing him, and inviting him to stay over at his house, and cooking him food, and watching stupid action movies with him, and making out with him on the Milkoviches couch, and letting him fuck Mickey in a real bed, and

That ended.

Maybe Mickey meant it when he said _it’s a fucking piece of paper_.

Maybe Ian needed to hear that he was loved by Mickey, not through veiled words. Maybe he was just a stupid kid for needing that. 

When he thought back, there was Roger, and there was Kash, and there was Ned, and none of them really loved him. None of them really needed him for anything other than sex. And maybe Mickey was supposed to be the first one who was different.

Maybe when Mickey said, _figured she’s going to be off fucking dudes - why can’t I?_ Ian didn’t want to decipher what exactly he meant. Maybe when Ian asked, _don’t what?_ he just wanted to hear the truth for once.

Looking back, Ian can see he was selfish. But he was just a seventeen-year-old kid painfully in love with someone he desperately hoped would one day love him back. But instead, he turns out he was just a warm mouth. Instead, he was just another fucking mistress. 

And then there was the army - and then there was Monica (yet again) - and then there was the club. And somehow after all of this, there was still Mickey.

This time Mickey was gentle, this time Mickey would say the words Ian needed to hear, and he slept close to Ian’s side, and he kissed him, and he stood up to his father, and they were together. They were a _couple_ because _of course_ they were.

But then there was

**ian:**

Ian who couldn’t keep his word, Ian who couldn’t keep his world running in a straight line, Ian who was going everywhere and nowhere. Now it was Ian who would say things and Mickey had to decipher them, except for this time Ian didn’t even know what he meant.

And Ian could see the worried looks on people’s faces, the confusion and the concern over his actions, what he was doing, what he was saying. He could feel how Mickey held him close at night like he was going to make a run for it. Mickey was saying the things Ian had desperately been wanting, needing to hear. Ian loved Mickey, and it was supposed to be enough.

Why wasn’t it enough?

At night Ian would dream of white, clean rooms, and Mickey was always there in his arms, sometimes there was Yevgeny, Svetlana or Mandy. But always Mickey, Mickey was his constant. 

When Mickey said, _what you and I have makes me free,_ Ian knew he meant

_I love you._

But

_The hell does that even mean?_

**caleb:**

Caleb was a distraction. Caleb was everything and nothing at the same time. Caleb was everything Mickey wasn’t. So Ian found it easy enough to start to chase after him.

And that worked out okay, and Caleb was there and would make him lunch, and that was supposed to be cute. Ian should feel grateful that his boyfriend took the time to think of him. That was how it was supposed to be, right? This was what love could be like.

Ian could go out for fancy dinners, and meet Caleb’s prissy friends, call him his boyfriend, and dance at a wedding in front of his homophobic family.

When Ian would lay next to him at night he would tell himself that _this_ was stability, this is what he needed. He knew Caleb wasn’t a forever kind of thing, that he was a for now thing, and he was just the distraction Ian needed to keep himself still. 

To keep himself from his old life where there was a person he needed to talk to, who he wanted to run to, to ask, _do you still love me? Did I fuck everything up? Do you hate me? I hate me._

But Ian didn’t. He stayed with Caleb.

Until Caleb of all people fucked that up because god forbid Ian be enough for someone, god forbid Ian be _it_ for someone. 

Ian didn’t love him, but he sure thought he was at least good enough for him.

**trevor:**

Trevor was different, and maybe that’s exactly what Ian needed.

Trevor challenged Ian, didn’t back down when Ian would rise against him, would put Ian in his place. Trevor had heart, and he made Ian laugh, and he was helping at-risk youth, which was totally admirable. It was easy with Trevor, and that was what it was supposed to be, right?

So he could lay next to Trevor at night, smoke weed, and go to parties, and listen to what Trevor’s work is about, and hold him close. He could even try and talk to him about Monica (even though no one can understand him and Monica) and they can kiss and make up after a stupid fight.

Did Ian love Trevor? He wasn’t able to answer that question before 

**mickey:**

Mickey was the sun and Ian couldn’t help but follow him. Ian wanted to burrow into his skin, press himself close, and never let go. Mickey still smelled the same after all this time, Ian wanted to memorize it. 

When Mickey said _you’re under my skin man, the fuck can I do?_ Ian knew exactly what he meant.

So Ian got into that car, and he sat by Mickey’s side, and he emptied his fucking bank account because after all these years Ian still loves Mickey. Mickey is his constant. And he’s starting to really get that Mickey loves him, too, but there’s still 

**ian:**

Ian who is medicated for life, who needs to remain stable to function, who could royally fuck this whole thing up for Mickey. And how is that fair? How could Ian stay medicated properly on the run from the police? There is no guaranteed access to medication. 

Why the _fuck_ didn’t Ian think about this little bit before? How could he do this? Is this really him now? Who is he now? Does Ian deserve to have Mickey after all this time?

So Ian said goodbye. For what he knew would be the final time, where he would ever see Mickey again. And he looked at him, and he was beautiful, and he was everything, and _fuck_ , Mickey was the fucking sun.

**trevor:**

Because what the fuck else is Ian supposed to do? He loves Mickey, but can’t stay with Mickey, so Trevor - he could be with Trevor again. Because part of Ian could love him, maybe not in the way that was needed, but Ian could be with Trevor, he could make that work.

Then again, maybe not. Maybe Ian can’t love anyone with his brain going haywire and there are kids who need _homes_ and that’s more important than whatever the fuck _Fiona_ is going to do with that church and

Yes he’s on his medication, how dare anyone insinuates that he’s not and

Fuck these pastors, these fucking homophobic pricks ruining young LGBTQ lives and

Who set that van on fire? And

What is Ian doing in the back of this police car? And

Then there’s jail, there’s dying his hair, and finally, there’s

**mickey:**

Always.

He is everything, and Ian loves him, so, so much, starts letting him know every chance he can get. He doesn’t want to leave him, only wants to be with him, wants him to be safe. There’s Paula and that fuckery, and there was the almost-marriage, which goes to shit. All because of Ian, who, scrambling, thinks

_“How do you know you love me? How do you really know?”_

And Ian just needs the answer, because after all these years maybe Ian still needs words over actions, but Mickey doesn’t give it. Mickey’s given Ian enough already. Ian doesn't deserve to know. But there’s still the fact that there’s

**ian:**

Who is fucked up, who is scared, who loves Mickey but is terrible at showing it. 

And later, after Ian has hobbled home on his stupid crutches, he’s sitting up in his bed, turning Mickey’s ring over in his hands. Because even if Mickey doesn’t want it, it’s still his ring, and Ian will hold onto it. 

When he lays down all he can smell is Mickey within his sheets, Mickey in his pillow. And he searches and searches for the answer he needs. But he can’t find it.

When did he turn into this? When did he stop being that kid, who was so desperately waiting for Mickey to love him back? Because Ian needs him, he needs to be that kid right now.

But that kid died a long time ago, he’s burning in crumbled ash somewhere with his dreams of the army. And Mickey was the only thing to survive that.

He slips his own ring off his neck and loops Mickey’s together with his on the pseudo-necklace he created. Because they’re together, even if Ian is in bed alone, even if Mickey is sharing a bed with some guy named Byron. (Seriously, is Ian actually supposed to be threatened by fucking _Byron_?) Mickey is his constant, and Ian will make sure he knows.

**Author's Note:**

> i just want to make it clear that i feel for both of the boys right now. i often just find it easier to write for ian - mickey wears his feelings and his heart on his sleeve, you often can understand his motivations and how he's feeling just by the look on his face, or a movement (props to noel fisher, honestly.) ian is very different, i've always seen ian as a more closed off individual especially when it comes to his motivations, and i enjoy analyzing him because of this. 
> 
> if anything i'm just annoyed this storyline is taking place in season 10, when it would have been the perfect direction to take them in a different kind of season 6 (not the marriage thing, but the talking about their feelings, ian dealing w his insecurities, mickey with his own, etc.) but whatever! made an ok fic i think! 
> 
> anyway yea talk to me about your feelings for our sad boys i'm just sad for them someone get them into therapy


End file.
